Beast of Burden
by BloodRaevynn
Summary: Loki thinks that being Odin's warhorse must be demeaning.  Sleipnir begs to differ.  References to non-con, myth!canon MPreg  does it still count if the guy was a mare at the time?  and discrimination, and the resultant trauma


A/N: For a norsekink prompt. A response to certain popular community perceptions.

Argr, meaning "unmanly" or "effeminate," was a dire enough insult in Viking culture that a man was expected to try to kill anyone who accused him of it (look it up on wikipedia - it also serves as an explanation for Thor straight-up killing that Jotunn over calling him "princess"), a variation of this insult has been used against Loki in myth!canon in direct reference to Sleipnir's birth, but his use of Seidr (sorcery - traditionally a woman's art) would also make him a target for it. Maremother is one of Loki's kennings, also obviously in reference to Sleipnir's birth.

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><p>The evening air was chill, promising that the meadow would be frosty come morning, so Sleipnir bid his groom to give him an extra blanket. The groom looked toward the stall door at the sound of quiet footsteps, and bowed his head when he saw Loki.<p>

"Your highness," he murmured, and turned back to his work. "Will there be anything else, my prince?" he asked Sleipnir when he finished securing the blankets.

"No, thank you. You may go now."

The groom bowed and left; bowing again to Loki as he passed him.

Loki regarded his son in silence for a time, and Sleipnir waited patiently for him to speak.

"I was watching the war games today," Loki began.

"Yes, I saw you," Sleipnir said. When Loki didn't immediately continue, he offered: "I was glad you came."

"Do you...enjoy doing that?" There was something off in Loki's tone; something Sleipnir had been hearing from him more and more frequently of late. Something almost akin to disgust.

"War games are essential to keeping our edge in times of peace," Sleipnir told him. "It keeps the mind and instincts sharp."

"But, do you like being used as a horse? Can you possibly be happy like that?"

Ah. There it was.

"It may have escaped your notice, but I *am* a horse."

"No, you are much more than that," Loki said quickly. "Your mind-"

"Does not alter the reality of my form," Sleipnir said firmly. "Would you have me wield a sword? Turn the pages of a book? Lift a cup in salute? With what hands?" Loki's expression softened into something Sleipnir would never accept from anyone. He stretched out his neck and bit Loki's shoulder sharply. Loki yelped, in surprise more than pain.

"What-?"

"That was not an invitation for you to pity me," Sleipnir snapped. "I do not lament my hooves, and I will not have you lament them for me."

"Odin treats you like beast of burden!" Sleipnir's ears flattened against his skull at that, his ire rising tenfold.

"He treats me as a valued partner! As an **equal**!" He reared up and brought the hooves of his four front legs crashing down on the floor. "If that is not obvious to you, it is only because you have not been around us long enough to see!"

A stricken expression crossed Loki's face, only to vanish an instant later; hidden behind an expressionless mask and a barrier of crossed arms, and Sleipnir regretted his words.

They had never been very close. Sleipnir's conception and birth had been painful and traumatizing for Loki, then a youth not yet out of the grasp of adolescence, and the whispers of argr, maremother, and worse behind his back (never to his face, where he could challenge them), did not go unnoticed; so he had passed Sleipnir off to Odin and Frigga and withdrawn into his books, protecting himself with a silver tongue sharpened to a dagger's edge and pranks far more vicious than before. Loki had never blamed Sleipnir, but it had been hard to even look at him then; the seasoned warhorse Sleipnir was now understood this, but the awkward-legged colt he had once been had not - had seen it only as abandonment by the only parent he knew - and years later, when Loki had started to make an effort to repair their estrangement, Sleipnir had been slow to accept. Their relationship was still more distant than either of them would like.

Sleipnir sighed and paced a circle around the stall before approaching Loki again.

"Forgive me, father." always father, never mother; the backbiting of the Aesir had worked the stigma far too deep beneath Loki's skin for him to ever be comfortable with the implication that he was anything other than a man.

"No, you are right to be angry with me for abandoning you."

"I'm not. I used to be, but that was long ago. I'm angry that you would insult grandfather so."

"The two of you are close then?" Loki asked.

"Of course," Sleipnir snorted and tossed his mane. "Even were we not kin, it would be impossible to work as one in battle and not become so close that you instinctively know what the other is thinking without the need for words. There is none I would rather spend time with." Sleipnir paused and then speculated: "Well, except perhaps for Gullfaxi."

"Mother's new horse?"

"Spoils of a race grandfather and I won." If Sleipnir's face had been capable of it, he would have been wearing an impish grin. "She's nearly as fast as I, and beautiful. She may be simple-minded, but she's spirited and affectionate; I greatly enjoy her company."

"Surely you would prefer that the two of you would be able to run free somewhere."

"Are you trying to make me bite you again?" Sleipnir threatened. "It is only because I am here that I can be more than a mere animal. If I was left to my own devices in the pasture my mind would grow dull. Out in the wild I would be living only by the instinct to survive, and my life would be shorter than it will be here, with personal servants to attend to the things I cannot do for myself. There is a healer who sees that every ailment and injury is quickly and properly treated, a chef who makes sure my food is perfectly balanced to keep me hale and hearty, the groom who attends to my daily hygiene, a Ferrier who makes sure my horseshoes fit perfectly and are comfortably and firmly attached, other stable-hands who make sure the stables stay clean and aired out and my tack is properly maintained and fitted, personal attendants who read to me, transcribe and deliver my messages, and run any errands I might have. I am known across the nine realms, honored by the Asgardians, and an indispensable partner in battle to our king. I want for nothing here, and would have nothing if I were to 'run free.'"

"You are happy," Loki said, wonderingly, as if the thought had never occurred to him. It probably hadn't; so certain was he that he had failed his only child.

"The only thing that could make me happier would be to see more of you," Sleipnir said, nudging Loki's chest with his nose. Loki smiled slowly, reaching up to stroke Sleipnir's forehead.

"I think that can be arranged."


End file.
